Bitter Harvest
by LosingInTranslation
Summary: Inside Rossi's head after Emily is gone. Post S06E18: Lauren, Rossi/Prentiss


**DISCLAIMER:** Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!  
><strong>RATING:<strong> T for Teen  
><strong>SPOILERS:<strong> Post S06E18: Lauren  
><strong>WORD COUNT:<strong> 984  
><strong>PAIRING:<strong> Rossi/Prentiss  
><strong>SUMMARY:<strong> Inside Rossi's head after Emily is gone.

**A/N:** Written for the LJ Comm cmrossiprentiss and the Fall Classic in order to assuage the guilt of Smacky30 and Mingsmommy. This idea was kicking around in my head for a while, and figured this was as good a time as any to write it.

**REVIEWS:** Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

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><p>Grueling case, after grueling case, and another grueling case after that; it was the life he had chosen, but for some reason it was weighing heavier on him now, than it ever had before.<p>

The routine hadn't changed. The case was over and he went through his usual debriefing with Aaron over a glass of Scotch. Then there was the long drive from Quantico to his quiet little place tucked away in the tree., In through the garage and dropping his go-bag on the steps, only to find a fresh one waiting for him just inside the door to the house, thanks to his housekeeper's ever vigilant eye. And depending on the last time he ate, he would rummage in the fridge for something to keep from waking up too soon from hunger. Then it was time for his own brand of sedative; another glass of Scotch and a little music in the study to soothe his nerves sufficiently for sleep.

Glass in hand he made his way to the turntable for the only music to give him comfort lately. Placing the needle gently in the middle of the disc, he was rewarded for his precision with the sound of the empty space. Normally, it would give him a little sense of victory, but he knew it was more about repetition at this point. He'd been listening to the same two songs for months now. By the end of the second, he would shut it down and shuffle off to bed, hoping for good dreams, instead of the bitter taste of memories.

Slouched in his favorite chair, David Rossi can't stop the memories as the music drifts around in his mind. The first line breaks his resolve, and he knows he truly is the one walking those lonely streets in the song. They'd just finished a case out in Wichita, Kansas, with a frustrated farmer killing co-op workers and burying them in various corn fields. As he looked out the windows of the jet on their descent, he saw the fields and all their patterns, and he remembered another case from the year before.

Morgan had been remarking about the patterns in the corn left by the unsub's tractor, and David added that it would take someone very familiar with the area to navigate so effectively in that kind of a corn maze. Reid began to drone on about the history of the corn maze and he tuned out of the conversation in favor of studying Emily. She was talking to Garcia as they put together a list of people to interview. Being the only woman on their team, they all knew it would come down to her to interview the women at the bars, and not for the first time, he was pained by her difficult position in the BAU.

He watched as she picked at her cuticles and constantly tucked her hair behind her ears, both sure signs of her rising stress level. David had realized early on that cases where women were dominated as they were victimized were Emily's specific trigger. For Hotch and J.J. it was cases with kids, and Morgan struggled with the sexual abuse of children, while Reid, for obvious reasons, found it difficult to cope with cases involving schizophrenics. They all had something that would set them off, but seeing Emily's internal struggle playing out on her face and in her nervous ticks made his heart ache, and made him want to wipe it all away with his caress.

It was the Wichita case that turned things around for him. Everything until then had been casual flirtation and basic human connection, but realizing just how much he wanted to take her pain away changed things in his mind. And what followed changed everything for him, especially the way he thought about Emily.

Now, thinking about her in any way made his heart ache, but he couldn't help it. She was in his every thought, and with every breath he felt her absence from his life. It was fall again, harvest season, and he had been looking forward to sharing the cool nights and crisp mornings with her, but that reality was taken away from him with the return of Emily's past.

Unlike Morgan, David wasn't surprised to learn about the things which shaped Emily Prentiss. He had long ago accepted that he might never understand or even know about all the things in her rich and daring history. She was a woman who lived every day to the fullest and wrenched as much life out of those twenty-four hours as she could. And that led to many adventures and just as many dangers. Her life before would always be something of a mystery, but she was a mystery he had hoped to spend the rest of his life enjoying.

Unfortunately, the time he'd had to enjoy that mystery was far too brief. With Doyle's return, Emily pulled away from everyone, but especially from him. He tried to respect her boundaries, but when the truth was revealed, he deeply regretted that decision.

The sound of ice clinking in the now empty glass could be heard as one song faded to silence before the next could begin. David squeezed his eyes shut as the piano began to play, and he wished, hopelessly, that the next song would different this time. But the words still came, and they were still true. He never would be tired of loving her, even though his body was tired from the case.

Slowly rising from the chair, he stood over the stereo waiting for the anthem-esque song to finish telling him the truth, before turning it off and heading up to bed.

His path up the stairs was lit by the harvest moon shining in through the windows, casting an amber glow throughout the house and shadowing his bitter mood in a somber darkness.


End file.
